Sadness
by Codename Deus
Summary: A ruthless masked assassin plies his trade in his industrial hometown, partly overrun by a contagious plague. He is homeless but is known for taking contracts in order to get by, although he only harbours one desire. He wishes to exact revenge on the one who had him imprisoned by authorities years before for an act of self defense when young. The one he called his father.


**Sadness**

(Here is an advanced warning to all readers that there will be occasional scenes featuring intense violence, some sexual, blood and gore, and to expect frequent use of bad language including the f word and infrequent use of the c word. If none of these issues concern you in any way, read on and enjoy -Codename Deus-)

**The Big Old Meat Sack**

A man sat alone at a restaurant table. The restaurant, ordinarily named Vincenzo's, stood proudly in the corner of the main city square and was tucked away like a rare and hidden gem in the process. The restaurant dealt in fine Italian cuisine and it was packed to the rafters by those wishing to dine with the best Isola Canalipoli had to offer.

The fine aroma involving various flavours of pizza, lasagne and bolognese filled the air of Vincenzo's like an excitable air freshener. It thoroughly delighted the noses and taste buds of the patrons within. Outside in the city square, the aroma continued still, drawing in the further curious intrigued by glorious Italian dining.

Finally, a well-dressed, bow tied waiter delivered the man his meal; a large, puffed up and perfectly rounded pepperoni pizza. It looked so succulent, delicious. Steam waved up from the pizza to indicate its heat. Sliced circular pepperoni toppings, as well as the mozzarella cheese and tomato coating were moist and mouth-watering.

The man was dressed in a black top hat, traditional black and smart tuxedo with a red bow, white undershirt with matching black trousers and shoes covering his porky body. Patiently, he let the waiter set the pizza covered plate upon the table and they nodded at one another in gratitude.

He noted the perfectly equal cuts, each slice of the circular pizza exactly the same size. The man was tantalised. He could barely contain his excitement like a child in a candy shop and wrapped the sausage like fingers of his podgy hand around one of the slices, picking it up. The moist mozzarella cheese was also stringy, slowly peeling itself away from the ingredients of the other slices.

He gripped the slice firmly and raised it before his mouth, noting that on the adjacent table the guest twisting a ravel of spaghetti around her fork, mixed with warming minced beef, tomato slices and a rich bolognese sauce.

He finally took his bite, immersing himself in the delicious pepperoni tang induced taste and settled back upon the chair in which he sat, relaxed. Closing his eyes he allowed the taste to simmer within his mouth as he chewed, nodding his head at the tasteful delight.

When he opened his grey eyes again, his face almost drained completely of colour, eyes shocked and had almost choked on his pizza. He gazed across his table. Sat on the chair opposite was a Lucario, one that had not been there just a second before. The Lucario was masked and hooded, the mask itself appearing like a slightly split (down the middle) metallic human skull.

The 'eye sockets' of the chrome like mask held a pair of binocular like spy glasses, allowing the Lucario to zoom and focus as and when it was desired. The 'eye sockets' and 'grinning mouth' held long, teeth like bars that looked as if they stitched the mask together, as if it were an element of cruelty.

The Lucario was well dressed, other than the dark hood upon his head was also garbed in swanky, traditional blue and gold jacket tied at the bottom with a belt around the waist.

The man could clearly smell the Lucario's masculine odours. He felt intimidated by the presence. It felt supernatural, as if the rest of the restaurant had been silenced into watching. In reality it was as thriving as ever, with almost every guest talking, their voices mingling and churning together in the atmosphere. It was just he who felt frozen, chilled, frightened even. Once he had plucked up enough courage to even blink again, the Lucario disappeared almost as suddenly as he had appeared, along with two slices of the man's pizza.

The man himself sat stunned and looked around. Nobody else had noticed. He could not put his finger on the events. He could swear this was not an effect of the supernatural. After all, ghosts do not have a scent or a smell, do they?

The thoughts circled, merged and jumbled together. The man would not even begin to comprehend them, for it frightened him. He stared at his now one third depleted pizza while polishing off the first slice he had to hand. It was all he could do and yet felt only small comfort.

Two moist drops fell upon the pizza, but they did not come from him, but from above. The masculine stench was back, that much was certain.

The man shook and trembled in fear, cold sweat permeating from the nape of his neck. It was sweat indeed that had dropped upon his pizza and, slowly, dared to look up above him.

Inevitably the Lucario was standing over him from behind, staring down at him through his cold, chrome like mask. This time however the Lucario did not evaporate into the air, showing himself to be very much real.

Still frozen in place through horror, the man was then grasped vigorously around his neck, the Lucario having used his arm to ensnare the neck like a serpent asphyxiating the life out of its victim.

His chair fell back upon the floor as a result of the movements and his large, rounded body while he was practically forced to stare into the 'eyes' of his aggressor's mask.

"What…what do you want?" The man's desperate voice wheezed its way out of his mouth. The Lucario ignored his choking question and proceeded to force him towards the doors, barely avoiding a passing waiter with a plate of tagliatelle.

"Watch it!" Grunted the waiter in a full Italian accent, although backed off when the Lucario glared at him through his mask.

The Lucario then forced the fat man to the floor at the entrance door, pressing his foot up against his neck vigorously to restrain him.

"Run!" Growled the Lucario in a deep, hoarse voice. Immediately his foot relinquished its grip and the man stood up as quickly as his rounded body allowed him too.

Turning around, or at least turning his head to look behind him, he noticed the Lucario had disappeared without a trace having snatched up further slices of the man's pizza. The man himself had no time to express annoyance given he now had what he termed an aggressor, one who threatened violence or worse; death.

He could have sworn he heard the sound of chomping on food nearby, but relaying his eyes around the scene led to people chowing down on mainly spaghetti based courses or garlic bread starters. None of those matched the moist chomping he was hearing though. It assaulted his ears in flickers rather than bursts and it only served to make him tremble further.

"Leave me alone!" He cried out and began to run, or more shamble, through the entrance to Vincenzo's and out into the busy city square.

Behind, many of Vincenzo's patrons looked up with frowns at all the commotion the porky man was making. Comically some of them had bolognese smeared spaghetti dangling from their orange stained mouths and chins.

The man noticed as he briefly glanced back but as he turned his head forth again, he knocked fully into a hoodie clad man sending the latter's slender body sprawling to the floor.

"Watch where you're fucking going, you fat cunt!" The hoodie sneered as he glared at the meatier man and stood up again, dusting himself off.

The fat man did not apologise. He did not have time to given his new found fear. The Lucario appeared once again, his odours once again present as if to draw the man's attention to him. It worked. This time the Lucario took a bite out of a slice of pepperoni pizza in his paw. Once again the moist mozzarella trailed itself through the 'grin' of his mask to the pizza before finally relenting into his mouth.

Moist chewing could be heard as the Lucario stood openly in the plaza, seemingly enjoying the pizza he entitled himself to while continuing to taunt the man whom he had swindled it from.

"It would be such a waste to just leave it there." The Lucario hoarsely remarked in his deep set voice, referring to the man leaving behind his pizza in terror and how he subsequently decided to help himself.

"Leave me alone!" The man repeated himself. People in the plaza stopped and stared at him, thinking him deluded or just very strange.

He realised that the Lucario had disappeared again, likely humiliating him in the process. He scanned the plaza again...and again...for his masked aggressor. No success. He began waddling away again towards a small alleyway, flanked by traditional and tired old houses on either side. Their chimneys billowed smoke from their small funnels. The houses made Isola Canalipoli look made up of old English architecture rather than from a more traditionally Italian origin.

Washing lines dangling drying clothes and towels hung precariously above the cobbled stones of the alleyway. The rustic environment could not have felt more different from the plaza it led directly from.

"Away with you!" A hoarse voice demanded. It sounded familiar. The man frowned before his eyes widened again. The masked Lucario stood before him in the middle of the alleyway. By now the man was frightened to even reason with words. Holding his hands aloft as if to plead innocence, he turned tail before the Lucario disappeared. He ran as fast as his legs would take him, back into the plaza again. Due to his weight he could go nowhere fast, but his determination pushed him onwards.

He began to feel as if the strange masked Lucario was trying to lead him somewhere in particular. He stole himself away from the plaza and onto a busy main shopping street with cobbled stones. He looked around at every person talking, browsing goods in storefronts or entering or exiting the shops themselves. He was afraid the Lucario could be one of them.

Something was felt thumping against his leg. He looked down in a panic. It was only a clumsy child, fallen on the floor. His mother appeared.

"Oh I'm so sorry, sir. Little Joral has been such a rascal all afternoon. Please accept my humble apologies." She apologised profusely. She bowed and the man nodded vaguely in acknowledgment. She helped up her child whom had a nosebleed and as such, bloodstained little hands. Both of them were smartly dressed. The mother picked him up and immediately his bloodstains smeared across her darkly coloured corset. She rolled her eyes as the plump man waded through the crowds. He treated each and every one of them with caution. His hassle could be any of them.

While he made his way through the busy streets, he was heading obliviously in the direction of the littered beach. An area of foul stench and plenty of trash, he sought anywhere...anywhere away from further harassment. He made his way through a four way crossroad. To his surprise he was shoved forcefully. Hitting the floor on his side he coughed and grunted. He looked up. The now familiar masculine stench was there and standing over him was the masked Lucario, glaring right down at him. The Lucario grasped his throat and hoisted him up, his face almost touching his aggressor's mask.

"Run, porky run!" Barked the Lucario and let go his grip. The provoker was clearly enjoying all the taunting and pointed straight ahead. That led straight to the tall clock tower. An elevator sat in the middle waiting. Rustic and squawking in pain, comfort and assurance was the last thing it offered.

The Lucario grasped the back of his neck and marched him forward. Then, he tossed him into the elevator and pressed the button on the outside. The doors closed before he could even move. He felt trapped and imprisoned. The Lucario had disappeared. With a loud buzz and a squawk, the elevator began slowly ascending. On all sides was metal mesh like material. It felt like a public jail cell. He felt imprisoned enough, as if his provoker was a prison guard sent to retrieve him.

A staircase spiralled around the outside of the tower and the elevator itself. Rust was showing through cracks in the dull grey paint. Graffiti was scrawled on the tower's structure and inside the elevator itself. In red and black paint, such fonts as 'Blood from the Eyes' were present, reminding the man of the awful, stench ridden Weepers.

He looked outside upon a lower tower balcony. The masked Lucario glared right at him before dipping out of view beneath the rising elevator. If there was a word beyond terrified, the man felt exactly that. He was shaking visibly, sweating and could barely stand up. He was very drained both physically and emotionally. Much more punishment and he would probably be a gibbering train wreck. Breathing heavily, he clutched the mesh on the elevator tightly for support. It rose higher and higher, affording a stunning view of the industrialised city below. Beyond that, the clear blue sea and the beautiful neighbouring island of Isola Ferrosa in the distance. How the man wished he was relaxing carefree on the beach there...anything but being trapped in a rusting elevator with a masked madman giving him grief and horror.

While he began to contemplate on the delicious meal that he never paid for at Vincenzo's, he heard a distinct thump on the top of the elevator. It was as if something or somebody had fallen atop of it. The impact made the elevator shake and rattle uncomfortably for a moment. Then, it continued to ascend slowly and neared its peak with the wheels controlling it grinding and screeching in pain. It was clear the whole tower needed some severe restoration. The rust and fungus were clearly having a very adverse effect on its mechanics.

The man recognised this but was too strung up in his heart pounding concern. He knew his provoker would be nearby. Maybe the masked madman was on the elevator roof right above him. The very notion made him gulp and glance around everywhere. Clearly he was in a frenzied fit of shaken panic.

He snapped to just as the elevator came to a grinding halt at the top. Painfully groaning and lightly swaying, its doors slowly opened. The view over the entire city of Isola Canalipoli was just a few short steps away. However the masked Lucario stood in the elevator doorway, glaring coldly.

The man stared back frightfully, clutching the mesh at the back of the elevator for dear life.

"It's time for you to face your punishment for your sins." Grunted the Lucario through a low voice. The man's hands scrambled to grip the mesh as his aggressor closed in. The masculine stench once again shot up his nose as the Lucario made a grab for him.

In desperation, the overweight man pushed the muscular masked Pokémon. The Lucario reclined only a few steps.

"Fuck you, Avvoltoio. You are nothing! You hear me? Nothing!" The man retorted, picking up some bravery without warning. The masked Lucario, Avvoltoio, merely chuckled.

"That judgement is still better than being a fucking child molester, Mullins." He taunted to the man's chagrin. The man, Mullins, then attempted to throw a wild punch at the Lucario. Avvoltoio sidestepped and grasped the man's arm. Wrenching it violently one way, Mullins cried out in agony. Loudly, the bones in his arm clicked and snapped. He tried to fall to the ground to clutch his fractured arm. Avvoltoio kept him upright and pushed him repeatedly to the tower's edge.

"The world doesn't need bastards like you, Mullins. You think being smartly dressed hides your acts of felony? You think being in a political seat of power drains away your crimes? No...it does not! People have a right to know what kind of scumbag you really are. People need to know you are using your power for bad things. Child molesting is not a fucking joke! Your blood will drain away on the streets where it belongs."

Avvoltoio's speech made Mullins cringe in disgust. He was held against the small barrier at the tower's edge, contemplating the Lucario's righteous ramblings.

"You are a murderer, Avvoltoio. Nobody can be worse than a fucking murderer, you hear me?"

Mullins retorted desperately. The Lucario chuckled sarcastically as he held a sword like blade against the fat man's neck from behind.

"I'm not a murderer, Mullins. I am an assassin...a killer." Avvoltoio calmly responded. Then, in one swift movement, he slashed open Mullins' throat. Immediately profuse quantities of blood squirted and poured from the wound. The fat man clasped his hand to his throat desperately as he gurgled and choked in horror. Blood quickly coated his clasping hand, down his clothing and stained the floor of the viewing balcony. Avvoltoio stood back and watched the struggling as if in morbid satisfaction. He swiftly flicked the blood off his sword to maintain his blade's fine craftsmanship.

Mullins continued struggling as blood pulsed from the wide slit that extended from ear to ear and almost exposed the flesh in his throat. He stumbled about until he walked into the barrier at the tower's edge. Avvoltoio then made his way forward and stood directly behind his target again. This time, he planted the sole of his foot into Mullins' lower back and applied pressure. The pressure was enough to send his gurgling victim over the edge.

Mullins plummeted towards the ground. His memories flashed before him, remembering when he was elected as the mayor of Isola Canalipoli. He remembered sitting in the mayor's chair for the first time, smoking through a pipe. He remembered that he held political power from that point on. He remembered abusing his seat of power for his darkest secret and the way the local newspaper constantly hounded him about it. He remembered he had been mayor for three years and that all he would be remembered for would be allegations of child molesting. Deep within the recesses of his mind though, he knew the accusations proved to be true. He knew that was why he was suspended from his position pending investigation and that the local government were already looking for a replacement.

Pictures of the young children he had harassed filled his mind. He remembered waiting outside a local school offering to walk the young children back home. Instead, any he influenced under his thrall would be taken back to his office. Then, in his mind he heard the scream of a child...a young girl.

Finally, he remembered returning home one cold winter night to find a note on his doorstep, a note that had clearly been defecated on. One simple sentence was enough to strike fear into his heart and mind.

'Dear James Mullins

It is my duty to put a bad dog down for the good of this city.

Avvoltoio'

He remembered glancing to his right that night and found the masked Lucario crouched on a nearby rooftop...staring right back at him. How it made him scramble for his keys to the front door. How Avvoltoio disappeared in plain sight.

It had been a couple of months since then and the masked Lucario did not appear again. He rebuilt his confidence to traipse outside again into the warm spring atmosphere. He decided to dine at Vincenzo's to dust off those fearful blues and for a little while, forget all his troubles. That pizza was his little slice of heaven. Little did he know his heaven would be shattered and that his one moment of weakness was exploited by the mysterious. How former mayor James Mullins would hit the ground with the greatest of thuds...a fate richly deserved.

Then...hit the ground he did at last. His body rippled violently. His skin and flesh tore open and his bones shattered. His clothes were tattered and blood was splattered...many feet around his remains on the unsuspecting street. Rivers of red ran into drains while his head was caved in completely. One of his arms was severed and landed nearby, the other barely hanging on by a flap of skin. His spinal cord and ribs were exposed through flesh, his intestines spilled and coiled in bloody loops on a nearby pavement. His legs and feet were shattered and dismembered, his entire body mulched and soaked with blood. There was barely anything but meat and barely resembled the corrupt man James Mullins.

Nonetheless, the public around the street at that moment became horrified and ran like headless chickens. Some looked up at the tower and saw a figure standing on top. Just for a moment he stood and surveyed. Then...he literally vanished...


End file.
